


Salt All Around That Rim

by royal_chandler



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Anal Fingering, Body Worship, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Significantly Lacking Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23653528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royal_chandler/pseuds/royal_chandler
Summary: Richie moves farther onto the bed as his hand sneaks higher, bending over the gorgeous stretch of golden-limbed glory that is Eddie Kaspbrak. Pushing the lone bedsheet to the floor for an unobstructed view, he crests the praise-worthy curve of Eddie’s ass with every intention to return soon.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 60
Kudos: 456





	Salt All Around That Rim

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. So you know _that_ picture of PJ? You know the one. Let's just say that I find it inspiring.
> 
> Did I use a line from the song "Bottoms Up" to title a fic? You betcha.
> 
> Much appreciation to the lovely LDR, who is always there for me when it's time to get explicit.
> 
> This is unbeta'd. I'm the proud single mom of the grammatically incorrect.

Richie had planned to just crawl back into their Sunday bed and snooze a little more but when he comes out the bathroom after relieving his bladder and finds that Eddie’s sprawled out into his side of the bed, the plans flee with want-need-gottahave barking at their heels. Flat on his stomach with his elbows winged out, Eddie is a sight. One leg geometrically bent and the other a lean line down the mattress, he's clad in nothing but briefs and a shrinking corner of a single linen sheet. The sunlight from their window limning him in butterscotch film.

Richie pads back to their bed and sits on the edge. He traces the vulnerable dip of Eddie’s left ankle with his finger to the outline of his foot. It’s remarkably soft because Eddie has a standing bi-weekly ritual of soaking his feet in epsom saltwater, exfoliating, and moisturizing. The last he does every evening. He’s devastatingly clinical about it and, to be quite honest, it’s one of Richie’s favorite nighttime shows. Richie lets his fingers vacation over the beach-seashell top of his foot before going back up the spur of his ankle bone, up through and upsetting the dark hairs that cover his calf.

“Stop it. That fucking tickles,” Eddie mumbles into his pillow, kicking out at Richie.

“I’m just looking at you.”

“I’m shocked you can even see me.”

“Honey badger, I’ve got you memorized. Did I wake you up?” Richie asks. His attention moves to the inside of Eddie’s thigh. He uses a full hand there, exploring like he’s surveying new frontier, down to the valleyed thigh-gap and jumping over to climb the other’s hilltop. 

“Yes,” Eddie says sleep-grated, and twitching again as Richie finger-walks the crease between ass and thigh. “I’m tired of telling you to close the door when you piss. It’s loud. Does every head you have have to shout itself off?”

Richie cracks up, positively delighted. “To be fair, it's kind of my dick's waterpark. Sorry. Won't happen again.”

The answer to that is a disbelieving snort and considering the amount of times that they’ve had this conversation with no change, that tracks.

Richie moves farther onto the bed as his hand sneaks higher, bending over the gorgeous stretch of golden-limbed glory that is Eddie Kaspbrak. Pushing the lone bedsheet to the floor for an unobstructed view, he crests the praise-worthy curve of Eddie’s ass with every intention to return soon.

“Rich.”

Dropping a kiss into the slope of skin above the waistband of Eddie’s underwear, Richie says. “I’m right here, here, and here, and oh look at that, here too.” He takes his time with his kisses, smearing them with a little tongue and placing them on top of commas and the notches of Eddie’s spine.

Lifting his head, Eddie fixes his dark gaze over the shoulder that Richie’s heading to. “Do you have any idea what hour it is?”

“Nope. That a big concern for you? I can check, Mr. Casio.”

“Hmm. How about you lie down and I use your nose for a damn sundial instead?”

“Zing me more,” Richie says before stealing a sour kiss from his sleep-soft mouth. Eddie makes his usual whine of protest but allows it. And this time he gives back better than he gets. Biting at Richie’s bottom lip before sweeping inside, plying and thorough like he wants to lick last night out of Richie’s mouth.

“Oh, what a beautiful mornin’,” Richie breathes when they break. Eddie rests on the fold of his arms once more and, lovesick for him within seconds, Richie nuzzles close again. He slips his nose against the slash of Eddie’s jaw and then kisses all of his dimples, the fossils of his smile. When that smile finally gets over its shyness, Richie tastes the crinkled-up corner of Eddie’s left eye that’s a flipped over crescent moon and slit of deep brown. “Man, I couldn’t get over you even if I wanted to.”

“What’s up with you?”

“I've obviously been remiss in letting you know how fucking into you I am if you think this isn’t my permanent state of existence.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Eddie says.

And it’s with more sarcasm than Richie appreciates. However, this thing between them is only two months new and maybe Eddie just doesn’t get it yet. He doesn’t understand that Richie could pen an entire fucking manifesto declaring how fucking perfect he is and how wanted he is. That when words were exhausted, Richie would then proceed to draw up diagrams and record video of non-verbals for what can’t be translated. That Eddie owns islands of real estate in Richie’s mind and is present even when he’s not around. For stupid things like the rush-hour line at the coffee shop, the office of Richie’s accountant, the gas station, and the two-minute round trip to their mailbox and back. Richie doesn’t ever want to not talk to him, kiss him, rub up against him and tuck up into him. Richie would bury himself in Eddie if he could.

“There’s nothing in the world that I want more than you,” Richie says at Eddie’s ear. Telling him before he shows him.

He straddles over Eddie, knees pressed into the mattress and snug to the cotton-warm outside of his hips. Richie starts with the pink-ribbon keloid that silvers through the spray of freckles on Eddie’s shoulder, tracing it to its stop just four inches outside of where Eddie’s heart lives. “I wouldn’t have gotten up from it. Had it gone the other way, I couldn't have gotten up. I would have stayed there with you,” he confesses, both soft and heavy with the weight of it.

“God, Richie.” His name breaks apart on Eddie’s startled breath. “Don’t say shit like that. That’s the absolute last thing I’d want for you. You get that don't you?”

“I know,” Richie says but he doesn’t take it back and he’s grateful that Eddie doesn’t push.

Eddie stays quiet as Richie skims over the bold blade of his uninjured shoulder, as he travels down the expanse of his back and the inhale-exhale flex of his flanks then slides home to his ass.

“Can I take these off?” Richie seeks permission, touch sitting still at the edge of elastic and watching Eddie’s face, afraid that the mood's lost.

Eddie nods a few times before he husks out, “Yeah. Yeah, go ahead.”

Scooting down for more room, Richie hooks his fingers into the top of the briefs and peels them down til the fabric folds into an accordion bunch at the mid-point of Eddie’s thighs, baring his ass and the shade of his balls. Richie feels trashed on the view when his hand settles beige on the milk-pale color of Eddie’s ass, palming it with reverence and pleased to have the privilege to do so.

“Fuck, Eds. Your sweet ass,” Richie says, pressing indentions and letting up to see the flesh blanch and blush. His cock stirs in his shorts and the blood relocation has him speaking with total disregard for a filter, releasing his thoughts into the wild. “The things that I’ve got gaining interest in my spank-bank. It’s a wonder I’m not walking around with a stiff one and drooling on myself all fucking day.”

“What do you think about?” Eddie asks, hushed from up north.

It’s a topic that Richie’s never broached with him. He’s fucked guys so laid-back they were practically horizontal who visibly curdled at the idea and Richie is sure it’d be a guaranteed repellant where Eddie is concerned so he stays silent.

“I want to know,” Eddie’s voice pokes at him, an audio embodiment of the light shove he gives when he wants Richie to _quit acting so mysterious and just tell me, you’re not that interesting._ Always belied by his kind, thoughtful Bambi-eyes.

Richie clears his throat. Awkwardly, “Um, eating you out, tasting you. I’ve thought about it more than is probably sane.”

Dead air, then, “Oh.”

“I mean, we don’t have to,” Richie is quick to remind him. “I don’t need—”

“I’ve never had anyone want to do that before.”

Richie isn’t at all surprised. Eddie’s only had one sexual partner including his ex-wife and from what Richie’s gathered, both relationships were strictly lights out-under the covers situations. Maybe a deviation from missionary on secular holidays.

“It’s not a big deal, no harm done. We can forget that I said anything,” Richie says, taking his hands off of Eddie. He’s about to get up completely but Eddie reaches back and grabs hold, doesn’t let Richie leave.

He swivels his head around and casually smites Richie with, “I don’t want to.”

Richie fishmouths before he can think, much less string together syllables. The zipline between his brain and mouth unlatches multiple times, swinging free in a great ravine before he asks, “Are you—are you sure? It’s cool, you know. What we do is, well, it’s fucking amazing, Eddie. I don’t need anything else.”

“Yeah but you want to, right? You like it?”

“I do.”

“Okay,” Eddie says without judgement, with a small curl of his lips that Richie adores and his brows hiked up in amusement. He lets go of Richie and makes a motion with his hand like he’s spinning cotton candy out of their central air. “Then…”

“Shit, yeah,” Richie says, nodding and rebooting. He laughs out, “Fuck yeah! Eds! _Eddie._ ”

“Richie,” Eddie mirrors in the same intonation, laughing too. “Did I break you?”

Diving in and barnacling close, arms wrapped around and under his middle, Richie kisses him. He collects from his mouth, ducks into his neck and breathes him in, stamping a few kisses there. He trails his mouth along the scoop between neck and shoulder to the sensitive underside. He corrects Eddie after a happy raspberry into his armpit, “You _fuck_ me up.”

Squirming up like a gecko and doing exciting things to Richie’s tenting crotch, Eddie says, “You can bet on it if you don’t get out of my armpit.”

Richie obeys with one last loud, popping smack to the area. He flops down next to Eddie, who uses his legs to be adorable and shimmy his briefs the rest of the way off. When he’s done, Richie sidles near and shares his pillow. “Can’t fault me. It’s like ambrosia under there.”

“Speaking of,” Eddie opens meaningfully.

“Ambrosia? Were we?” Richie interrupts, pondering. “Oh I guess we kind of were.”

“Dumbass.” Eddie rolls his eyes. “I’m asking if I should I shower first?’

Richie considers the question. He certainly won’t say no to a shower if that’s what Eddie is comfortable with but Richie has rarely found it necessary. The handful of times that Richie’s done it, it’s always been with people who take care with their hygiene. He always enjoyed it either way. The musk and cling of sweat, the honest taste. And with Eddie? God, there isn’t an inch of Eddie that Richie doesn’t want.

“I mean, I won’t stop you if that’s what you’d like to do,” Richie says. He reaches out and follows the line of Eddie’s bushbaby brow. “I don’t mind it though. And I’ve seen you clean yourself. No one scrubs quite like you, handsome. It’s fine with me if it’s fine with you.”

Eddie’s face doesn’t unscrunch despite Richie’s thumb-eraser attempts. He’s batted away, Eddie commandeering his hand and pinning it down between them. “You understand that you’re getting nowhere near my mouth after. This isn’t Pornhub.”

“You’re so much hotter than all those guys,” Richie affirms. “Would the case be any different if you did shower?”

“Unlikely.”

“So a Listerine strip ain’t cutting it?” Richie ventures.

“You know what, Richie? No.” Eddie lets him go and turns over onto his side, back to Richie’s front, broadcasting his distaste. “Never mind. I refuse to let someone this empty-headed put his tongue up my ass. I’ll catch some undiscovered venereal disease that makes you infinitely stupid.”

“Hey! No, no, no, c’mere. Come back.” Richie scrambles after him and envelops him close, hips slotting together. His hard-on pressing against Eddie’s ass. Richie’s hands rove over his chest and stomach, scratching through chest hair that arrows down to Eddie’s half-mast cock. He closes one hand around it, jacking steadily. Richie sweeps his thumb over the cockhead peeking out of precome-slick foreskin. Tag-teaming his stroking, he sucks an almost-bruise on Eddie’s shoulder and tongues over his scar until it shines wet. Richie skids his lips on whatever parts of Eddie’s skin that he can reach, murmuring, “I’ll be good. Make it good for you. Love you so good.”

Moaning, Eddie says, “Yeah, yes, that's--please.”

He goes wonderfully pliant, pooled and easy in Richie’s arms. Eddie is lovable always and unquestionably, but god like this, with his tense and hyper-aware components knocked loose to make room for unabashed want, his inhibitions lowered enough that he’ll let himself be needy with his words and his body, he’s fucking amazing. Richie’s heart goes big with affection.

“God, love how you get, Eds,” Richie tells him. “The way you sound, baby.”

“Rich, please,” Eddie begs and Richie wants to give him every single thing, until Richie’s left with only his bones.

“You like that, baby?” 

“Baby, baby, baby,” Eddie mocks but the way he fucks into Richie’s grip and then rolls back, like he can’t decide on which way to go or what he wants more of, feels like an emphatic yes. It causes a firebrand to flare in Richie’s belly, impatient and longing.

“Can I make you feel even better? Let me do that for you?” 

“ _Yes._ ”

With herculean effort, Richie releases him. He smooths a hand down Eddie’s side and instructs him to get on his stomach after grabbing a pillow for him to stuff under his hips. The lift causes his unbelievably pert ass to look even more so. Between shucking his own underwear and bouncing back on the bed with enthusiasm, hand on his dick, Richie’s gaze lingers over him and doesn’t leave.

On the bed, he boxes over Eddie and checks in. “How we doing?”

“Better when you're moving. At least I know you’ll stop talking once your face is in my ass,” Eddie barbs back but it loses its heat with his shiver. Like the thought of it rattles him just like it does Richie.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Richie says, as he leans in to take his one last kiss before curtain time. It’s a sweet scuff of lip-on-lip before Eddie’s warm mouth gives a little. Whispering, Richie tells him, “I’ll never shut up about what a full course meal you are. There will be commentary.”

“You’re honestly the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met,” Eddie replies but it’s a smile on Richie’s skin and sounds a lot like an ‘I love you.’

So Richie says, “Ditto,” and then he creeps back down Eddie’s body. He admires how his hands skim and swallow up the lithe lines, how they bracket his hips, and how they span the entirety of Eddie’s ass like it was made custom for him. Richie tells Eddie this, partly to hear him laugh and because the thought is so bulletin-urgent, it feels wrong to not alert the masses. As it were.

“You’re seriously all talk,” Eddie says, muffled into the cushion of goosefeathers he insists upon.

Though he has nothing but a sharp inhale to spare when Richie spreads him open, gets a look at that tiny furl of pink. It clenches in a wink and Richie’s mouth waters between his cheek and teeth. “Fuck what I said before. Once I go in, I’m not coming back out. Shit, Eddie.”

With a small laugh that’s strung tight, Eddie says, “Hope not. Is—it’s alright?”

“Honey,” Richie breathes, “you’re perfect.”

Richie licks into him before he can even think to protest. He takes pride in the cry that cracks out of him. Richie laps up and around velvet-soft salt skin with the flat of his tongue. Richie moans into the taste of it, thrilled with it and the fact that Eddie is letting him do this. It heats him up down low, makes him thrum with a want for more. He takes time with his next stripe across the puckered hole, dragging slow enough to feel it flutter against him. He teases it again for the open-close-open clench.

“Ugh, guh—god,” Eddie hitches out, keening. “Oh my god, I didn’t _know._ It feels—fuck.”

“I know,” Richie pants after sucking off a lewd kiss. He nips the flesh of Eddie’s ass while he’s up for air, mauls him until he starts patching red. “You taste so good. You got no idea, love you like this. Spread open for only me to see. You’ve got me so hard.”

“Richie, you.” Eddie screws into the bed with a desperate noise and Richie uses kisses for his return to that humid heat. With a finger, he stretches the rim to fit in the point of his tongue, flicking at the ring and fucking in deeper. He works it loose, rolling in and out with spit to get it soaked and keep it so.

“Don’t sto—please, please,” Eddie rocks back, flush into Richie’s face and burying his nose, fucking himself on Richie’s tongue. It’s so hot that Richie’s cock jumps hard. He holds Eddie close and clutches him tight enough to leave behind starfish-bruises. “Just like—”

He continues to babble in half-words, devolving into strangled whimpers as Richie sloppily rims him. Richie laves his hole, jaws so hard that saliva treks down the heft of Eddie’s balls. Which he then stripes away with his tongue before taking one in his mouth. When they’re both damp, he blows cool air and it’s a fucking good thing he isn’t wearing his glasses because Eddie bucks like a fucking bronco. And Richie is only _just_ able to stay on his knees.

“Richie, Richie,” he cries, shaking. “You’re gonna make me come.”

Richie wants to see just how bad he can make Eddie beg for it so he hauls him up and gets him on all fours. He hooks an arm around Eddie’s ribcage, cleaving him close to lock him in place. He drops hot kisses on skin that’s dappled with sunlight and stained with the effort of sex, runs his tongue over the tremble of Eddie’s back.

“Uh, oh shit,” Eddie whines, the noises of his jerking off running underneath. 

“Wait, wait, let me—”

Cutting himself off, Richie seals his mouth over a finger, turning it slick before sinking it knuckle-deep into Eddie’s asshole.

Without Richie’s arm bracing him, Eddie probably would’ve shouted forward all the way to the headboard. It’s loud in the morning calm, like it’s been yanked out of bedrock, it’s so brand new to Richie’s ears.

“Fuck me,” Eddie sobs, unguarded. Richie looks up to his face, sees the sheen of sweat, the tears that have spiked his eyelashes.

“That’s what I’m doing, Eds,” Richie tells him with sawing breath. He curls in another finger to join the first and pushes them in quick and full. He fucks deep and steady into the snug, greedy heat of him, deliciously sucking Richie in. “Wish you could see how you take me. You’re squeezing me so tight. This is all I think about. You’re so fucking gorgeous. I can’t get enough of you. Ever. Not ever, Eddie.”

“You too,” Eddie punches out, riding Richie’s fingers shamelessly, going after it like the feral flashfire that he is. Gasping, he says, “Uh yes, shit yes. I’m so close.”

“Yeah, gonna come for me? You wanna come on my fingers? Show it to me, Eds.” Richie widens him further with three fingers, twisting them in. He crooks them to the side and finds the spot that’s always set Eddie off. Jack-knifing and rubbing it hard in turns, Richie urges him on with his mouth loitering over Eddie’s spine, “That’s it. Show me, show me, show me.”

Eddie shudders like he's harboring a demolition within. He spasms around Richie’s fingers over and over again, soundlessly seizing as Richie fucks him through it. He's quiet until it apparently becomes too much for him to handle, spilling weak-kneed noises and pushing Richie away like he's tapping out. When Richie withdraws his fingers, Eddie ragdolls out of his grasp, and he must be blown out of his mind because he flattens right into the spot he's stained. Under Richie's bird's-eye view, he looks gloriously fucked-out, from his snarled sex-damp hair to his used ass, the stubble burn that’s rashed across the apple bottom.

“Eddie, please,” Richie rasps, hovering over him. “Hold yourself open for me.”

The fight that he expects doesn’t come. With an exhausted grunt, Eddie reaches back and spreads his ass. His hole is slightly gaping and swollen, glossy with spit and sweat. Richie doesn’t hesitate and starts jacking off, stripping his cock right over Eddie’s ass. He tugs dogged but it’s still a shock when he comes after only a few pulls of his fist, every bit of him in a vice as he coats Eddie’s ass in spunk. Obscene white stripes paint his rim and drip pearls down to his balls.

"Oh, Rich," Eddie slurs, honey-slow. 

“Ho--shit, ho--shit,” Richie chokes out, chills and aftershocks gagging the middle of his curses.

He collapses in a heap, missing Eddie by a couple feet and panting harshly. When his heart no longer feels like a ribcage jailbreaker, Richie reaches out for him.

“No kissing!”

“I remember. I wanna hold you. I'll stay upwind.”

"There is no wind," Eddie says, shifting onto his back and taking Richie with him, plastering them together, sticky with come.

Richie rests his chin on the fold of his arms atop Eddie's chest. He purrs happily when Eddie cards his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp. "Mmm, that feels real nice. I'm being rewarded. Successful first time, then?"

"You made me feel so good," Eddie says softly, eyes still glass-like.

"I glazed you like a Krispy Kreme donut," Richie says proudly. "Now I've got standards to live up to."

"And you're ruining it."

"Might as well go full in then." Richie kisses a nipple. Licks it. "You wanna hear a dirty limerick I just wrote? Special for you."

"Oh jeez," Eddie says, mixing a long groan and a laugh.

Richie grins up at his dimpled, wry smile. "Is that a yes?"

Eddie's fingers pass over Richie's forehead, looking down fondly. "I'm too tired to even pretend that resisting isn't an act of futility. Go play."

"Okay, here goes." Richie hums a short vocal warm-up before beginning. "There once was a furious ball of sass, little held greater honor than eating his ass, what a momentous occasion to have my vision blurred, face-planted in the tuchus of my dearest Edward."

Eddie's laugh is full-bellied, a massage chair rumbling underneath Richie as he covers his face with a palm, cheeks pinking. "Oh my fucking god."

Richie peels his hand off. "Don't be embarrassed. You were so randy. It was one of the sexiest things that have ever happened to me. I loved it."

Eddie knots their fingers together and then rests the tangle on his chest, sending Richie straight into the deep-end. "You really did, didn't you."

It's not a question any longer, Richie knows.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," Eddie tells him.

"Shower with me?"

"Toothbrush first."

**fin**


End file.
